


chocolate chip

by jaybirddraws (simplestorange)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Male Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Specific Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), hm. i really did waste an hour of my life on this., nidhogg nipple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26470792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplestorange/pseuds/jaybirddraws
Summary: cursed nidhogg nipple lore
Comments: 11
Kudos: 22





	chocolate chip

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crystalsexarch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalsexarch/gifts), [Stormcalled (Raidho)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raidho/gifts), [ninnie_eats_chips](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninnie_eats_chips/gifts).



> after a particularly, ahem, _enlightening_ conversation on discord, i was struck by inspiration. throttled by it, more like.  
> -  
> @readers all you really need to know for context is that a'chago has a nidhogg scar that cross his right pectoral and completely covers his nipple, which did not survive the attack. :(

A’chago has seen shit. He’s been the Warrior of Light for over six years, it’s impossible to have gotten this far and _not_ have seen a thing or two. 

None of that could have prepared him for _this_ , though. 

The day had started out relatively normal: he, Tataru, and Lyse were in Kugane on one of their rare off days. Tataru had been tasked with finding an expensive bottle of wine for one of her mysterious clients, and he and Lyse were accompanying her. He’d jumped at the opportunity to explore the vibrant city. 

At some point, he’d gotten separated from the girls and found himself in a seedy little back alley marketplace that he was _very_ certain he should not be in. Stalls are cluttered together like fish in a can. It’s dark, even in midday, and the stench alone is overpowering. But a bright red flag with gold lettering poking out between a stall selling pornography and a stall selling something that looked suspiciously like endangered animals had caught his attention. He had felt compelled to walk over, and walk over he did. 

He doesn’t really know what he’s looking at. 

It’s...a jar. A jar full of some kind of liquid, with something shriveled and brown and small floating in it. He tries to look at the label to see if that’ll help at all, but the Echo stubbornly refuses to translate anything that it doesn’t deem important.

The shopkeep notices him staring and grins. She’s a crotchety looking old woman-she only comes up to A’chago’s shoulder, and her horns are standing almost five ilms away from her face. Her scales cover her entire face and when she smiles, it’s clear she’s missing a tooth or two. 

She says something to him in Hingan. He shrugs and smiles politely, and desperately tries to think of the brief lesson Tataru taught him when he first arrived. 

_”No Hingan. Eorzean. Sorry,”_ he finally stutters out. She nods firmly, then disappears into the building behind her. When she returns, she’s dragging a scruffy young woman who’s smoking a pipe by the arm. Speaking rapidly in their language, she points to him, then the girl, then back again. The girl snaps at her and yanks her arm away, then rolls her eyes and faces A’chago. 

“What do you want?” she asks, in perfectly enunciated Eorzean. 

“What is this?” he answers, pointing to the jar. If he had to guess, it’s a specimen. Maybe Alphinaud would know?

The shopkeeper's daughter cackles and waves the pipe around. “This, ijinn, is too expensive for you. Move along now.”

That piqued his interest. “I have money,” he insists. He pats his hand over the pocket of his cloak and the coins inside rattle. 

Coin always convinces even the most stubborn of souls. The shopkeeper’s daughter hesitates, but then she answers him. “This is a very rare product. It once belonged to the Warrior of Light.”

A’chago almost burst out laughing right then and there. He’s no stranger to people claiming to have things of his, but he’s fairly certain he’s never owned anything like _that_ before. 

The shopkeeper’s daughter frowns. “You think I am lying? Fool. This is the Warrior of Light’s nipple, a relic of his battle against a great dragon in Eorzea. Surely you have heard the tale.” 

Shock stops him in his tracks. His nipple-She’s joking. She must be. “How did you get this?” he asks carefully. 

The shopkeeper’s daughter heaves a great sigh, then takes a drag of her pipe. “Bought it from an ijinn merchant during my journeys to the Steppe.” 

“How did they get it?”

“How should I know, traveler? Are you interested in purchasing it or not?”

A’chago worries at his lip. He doesn’t think he wants it, but he doesn’t want anyone else to have it, either. That’s a part of his _body_ in front of him, for twelve’s sake. The scar on his chest twinges. 

Honestly, the story isn’t that hard to believe. He had walked onto the Steps of Faith with both nipples firmly attached, and woken up afterward with only the one. When pressed, Aymeric had told him that Nidhogg had nearly taken it off so the chirurgeons merely did away with it entirely-and he never had any reason to doubt him. 

Apparently, though, someone had gotten their hands on it, and now it had followed him to the Far East. 

“How much?” he asks. May as well check. 

“For this treasure? Three million gil,” the shopkeeper’s daughter says with a wicked grin. A’chago’s stomach drops. 

Three million gil? For a pickled nipple? He thought of his entire worldly fortune which amounted to a meager 157,000 gil. His nipple was worth more than he was. By a substantial amount. 

Somehow, he got the feeling that Tataru wouldn’t appreciate him dipping into the Scions’ coffers for such a frivolous purchase, even if it rightfully belongs to him. And somehow he doesn’t think he’ll be able to prove it’s his without a fight, which he _really_ doesn’t want to get into. 

Sullenly, A’chago decides that it’s not worth it. Let some other freak purchase it if they want it so badly. Clearly, he’ll just be kept awake at night consumed with ideas of his nipple’s adventures until the day he dies. 

“Nevermind,” he says bitterly, putting away his coin pouch. The shopkeeper’s daughter sneers at him and takes another drag of her pipe, blowing it in his face. 

“We also have snacks,” she says, pointing to a red plastic bag of snacks. “Chipples. Very popular.”

A bag of chocolate nipples. 

He pauses, stares at it, and doesn’t comprehend it at all. He stiffly walks away without a word. 

Once he reunites with Tataru and Lyse, they ask him where he disappeared to. “Nowhere in particular,” he answers. 

He doesn’t mention what he found. He wants to wipe it from his memory.

* * *

He wishes that was the end of it. Of course, fate is never kind to her favorites. 

“Soroban, what the hell is this?” he asks in Tamamizu, looking at the Kojin’s treasure shrine. There, on its very own pedestal, bathed in the ambient blue light of the ocean and adorned with red coral, was the _goddamn_ jar. 

Soroban comes up next to him and perks up considerably. “Oh! That is one of our rarest treasures. The merchant we bought it from proclaimed that it was good luck incarnate, and the kami have blessed us fortuitously since its arrival.”

A’chago tries very hard to keep his features schooled, but his eyebrows raise and he frowns like he’s going to be sick. “Well,” he says, trying to be respectful, “If it pleases the kami.”

* * *

The damn thing is haunting him, he’s certain of it. There’s no other explanation as to why he’s on the goddamn First, in his room in the Pendants, watching Ardbert casually flip his body part like one would a coin. 

“Whatcha got there, buddy?” he asks, voice strained. He hasn’t thought about that thing in ages. Not since he found it in the Kojin’s shrine. 

Ardbert flips it once more for good measure, then catches it in the palm of his hand. “Oh, this? Funny story. Sort of gross, too.”

It looks different, that was for sure. Removed from the jar, it just looks brown and shriveled and hard. Sort of like...a chocolate chip. Oh, gods, that snack bag he found suddenly makes sense. He’ll never be able to look at a cookie the same way again. 

Ardbert holds his nipple between two fingers and brings it up to the light. “I found this-well, Branden found it-while I was searching for the Eyes in Ishgard. Right under the Steps of Faith, if you can believe it. I pity the fool who was walking around with only one nipple,” he says matter-of-factly. 

_That’s me,_ A’chago thinks hysterically. _I’m the fool!_

“Lamitt really wanted me to leave it, said it was disrespectful to carry it around, but I’d been carrying it around for months at that point, and, well, it sort of felt like a good luck charm.”

“Another man’s nipple. You carry another man’s nipple as a good luck charm.” 

Ardbert shoots him a dirty look. “It could be a woman’s,” he says. “Don’t be sexist.”

Oh, gods, Ardbert doesn’t know that it’s _his_ nipple. A’chago decides right then and there that he’ll never tell. How would he even go about it? ‘Hey, friend, that’s _my_ nipple you’ve been carrying around for a century’?

Speaking of, how did Ardbert even get it? He was sent back to the First with The Word of The Mother way before A’chago ever went to Kugane. 

“You had it all this time?” he asks, gently probing for more information. 

Ardbert pockets it and grunts. “No. Lost it a few weeks before our battle-told you it was good luck, if I’d had it I bet I wouldn’t have lost-then next thing I know, I’m on the First, and wandering around that massive Crystal Tower, and I found it in a jar on a shelf. Been reunited ever since. Just feels right, y’know?”

No. He doesn’t know. He’s been separated from his own nipple for years. A’chago rubs a hand over his face roughly, then yanks on his ear. “Wait, you found it in the Tower?”

“Yep. In a jar, on a shelf.”

How the fuck did it end up in the Crystal Tower? A’chago’s head hurts trying to come up with a coherent timeline for the thing. Does-does that mean it was at one point in the Exarch’s possession? How did _he_ get it?

Actually, he doesn’t care. It’s none of his business. It’s his body, but it’s not his business. He’ll drive himself nuts if he wastes even one more minute thinking about this. “Good for you, Ardbert,” he says.

This is insane. This is somehow worse than watching his shitty ex turn into a primal, and having to kill that primal. This is somehow damaging him more than being hunted by a murder-horny Garlean prince. A’chago is going to lose his mind if he thinks about it any longer. 

This is absolutely fucked. He wishes he never walked into that damn alley.


End file.
